


Y.A.L.A

by RedEyedQueen21



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Amnesia, Canon Queer Character of Color, F/M, Found Family, Gen, Hurt Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, M/M, Religion, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Temporary Amnesia, Temporary Character Death, more tags along the way
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:02:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26072353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedEyedQueen21/pseuds/RedEyedQueen21
Summary: Yusuf wakes up naked and alone,  he has no idea how he ended up buried in a graveyard and has no idea why anyone would bury him alive (or dead?) like this.All he knows that his memories are shot and the color green-blue brings some sense of comfort.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 13
Kudos: 82





	1. Peace in Our Violence

Peace in Our Violence

All he could taste was dirt, grass and insects. He wiggled out of his binds that were keeping his wrist together. He couldn’t scream, he could hardly breath without feeling like he was breathing more dirt. His body was wrapped up in something.

A garb?

He wiggled his feet, also tied together by his ankles. The material felt wet and cold as did the dirt that could touch him now. The skin around his wrists and angles burned as he continued to wiggle. The ground was soft.

His only break in this insanity.

He must of passed out because he woke again to blackness and dirt in his mouth. He forced himself to keep wiggling and to fight the binds around his hands.

He didn’t know how long it took but he finally got the ties off his wrists- able to gnaw some of it with his teeth. He could imagine them red and burned looking now, his fingers mostly cut up now. He was surprise when he felt something metallic touch his tongue- blood. A lot of it.

Prayers went through his head.

Their meaning lost to him, but for whatever reason he said them still. It brought his mind and heart some peace. The garb was constricting his throat, he pulled it off, pushing more of the wet earth off of him.

Finally a bit of sunlight. He continued to push through the dirt, the garb- a long grayish silk blanket of sort was the only thing keeping him modest. He fell back into the dirt, his body half in a pit and half out as he somehow managed to blackout again. He attempted to break the binds around his ankles, after a while they were finally off. The last of his energy used up and he passed out again, exhausted and confused.

He didn’t know how long he had passed out but he woke up to rain, a drizzle falling from the sky. He finally picked himself up from the hole. It was at this time; he could see something shinny in the pit. He slowly went back into the ground to retrieve them: two rings- both silver and a necklace- silver as well. He looked the pieces of jewelry, his vision still blurry and his head throbbing. He could look at them later. He looked around to see where he was and what had happened to him.

He could see the sky was a dark gray color and the grass green as far as he could see. He could see little gray stones scattered around him. About 50 feet away from him, he could see it. A crescent moon made of marble. Further down a giant cross and prayer hands made of darker stone, the Star of David farther down.

He was in a cemetery.

Someone had wrapped him up and buried him.

He vomited in the hole he crawled out from.

Blood, fecal, and dirt mixing in with something acidic smelling. He wiped his mouth with the back of hand, causing more dirt to smear on him. He looked at himself, naked and caked in mud and blood. The light shower not doing much to clean him up. He looked at his grave marker only to discover nothing, not even flowers or a shoddy marker.

Who would bury him like this?  
Who would care so little for him?

Who was he?

He looked at the pieces of jewelry in his hands, they were caked in mud too. There was something written on the back of the ring, but he couldn’t understand the language used, same with whatever was written on the necklace.

‘ _Astaghfirullah_.’

He had no idea where to go or what to do. He saw a paved road, the feeling of it cool and almost comforting, but jarring compared to the grass where he had picked himself from.

He saw something, rather someone a few ways down and started walking towards them.

His vision, while still blurry. Could make out a form with lots of hair and wearing what could have been a white top and red skirt. The person appeared to be sitting on the grass, their hands on what could have been a grave marker.

“ _Help me!”_ he groaned when he got closer to the person. It was a woman, her face clearly alarmed as she got up, Her hands up as a signal for him to stop.

“ _Please help me_!” She looked confused, why did she look confused? He was asking for help?!

“Madha?”

“Please help me, I don’t know where I am, I don’t know what happened to me!” he could feel his eyes burn again, but this time from tears.

Her face looks confused, but she looks worried as well. “Min fadlak, batta’a. Laghtik Alearabiat lahjat mukhtalifatin.

He repeats himself again, slower and more determined for her to understand him. “YaAllah, jalasa.” She guides him over to bench. He sees a SUV few feet from them, she walks over to what is definitely her car and brings him over two bottles of water and a blanket and white and red box.

“Madha hadath lak?” she whispers to him as she gently wipes off the dirt off his face and hands, the blanket now securing his modest.

He doesn’t know this woman, but he’s eternally grateful to her for her kindness as she uses the water bottle to clean out his eyes.

She says something more to herself than to him in a language that sounds familiar but his tongue can’t respond back in, Her hands around his as she looks at his hands and face closely, for a moment she looks like she wants to ask him something but she doesn’t. She passes the water bottle for him, “Shurub.” She motions drinking. It takes a few seconds for the bottle of water to empty.

Her smile is soft but sad as she passes him a bit of something he doesn’t recognize, but it’s sweet and crunchy and helps ease the burning in his stomach. She passes bit more to him, saying something to him that he recognizes, but can’t really understand.

“Esme Hulut.” She smiles softly, “Ma hu asmak?”

He blinks tears away, the headache dissipating along with the pressure behind his eyes. The sweetness of what he had eaten took away the bitter taste of blood and dirt.

“Esme…Esme.”

Hulut looks worriedly at him, her white sweater speckled with dirt now as she holds his hands.

“It’s okay. Anta bikhayrin.”

“Okay.” He repeats without realizing. Hulut looks surprised but says nothing as she looks around and sighs. “Yallah.” She helps him into her car, he doesn’t ask any questions about where they are going to. He has no idea where he should be or where he is now.

He looks at the dashboard of the car. The numbers showing 3:55, music fills the air- he understands it to be Arabic but the dialect is different. He’s able to make out most of it though. Luckily the rain stops after an hour, they are still in the car. The music is in another language- English?

He might have fallen asleep a few times, but not for long. He doesn’t want to sleep- he wants answers. He wants to know where he is and how he ended up at a graveyard in an unmarked grave.

A name is popping up in his head though now. He can almost hear different voices saying it in his hazy half lucid dreams.

“Yusuf.” He says. The word familiar and right.

Hulut looked at him, “Madha?”

“Esme Yusuf.” He says again, the smile burning his lips as the crack.

_Elsewhere_ ….

Davey smirked as he got out of his car, he had just finished unloading his bosses (former bosses, pieces of shits were all killed four days ago by some rival gang) latest shipment He was ready to reap the rewards when he felt something hit his shoulder, but before he could take out what appeared to be a dart he fell.

“FUCKING WAKE UP!”

His head was throbbing as he felt a fist make contact with his head. “Wha?” he couldn’t feel his hands, his vision was blurred but he could see a figure face to face with him now. It was blurry image of a white man with blue green eyes. His light brown hair sticking to the sides of his face, the man looked enraged. “Tell me where he is.” Davey winced, the man wasn’t the one who had yelled but his voice (accented with something, Italian?) was deadly and icy.

“Who the fuck are-“ another punch to the head.

“Wrong answer.” It was a woman, the same woman who had yelled at him to wake up. His vision blurred worsen at the last punch, he could half way make her out; she looked tall and her dark hair was damp and short.

“Guys,” said another female voice. “We’re gonna end up killing him if we use him as a punching bag.” While there was certain note of concern in her tone, it clearly wasn’t for him or his safety.

“Makes me feel better.” Said the short haired woman.

“She is right though.” Said the man, he huffed out breath. His green-blue eyes were in slits and held no emotion for Davey.

Davey tried to move but found himself to be tied to the chair, the room they where in was all white- no window, no markings and no sound. He had no idea where the hell he was.

“Who the hell are you guys?” he groaned, tasting blood in the back of his throat.

Green-blue eyes ignored him, but got in his face. “You took someone away from me, someone very important.” He pulled out a sword.

Who the fuck carried a sword now a days?!

“You help us find him and your death will be painless.”

Before he could retort with a kind ‘Fuck you.’, the second woman- young looking and Black with long braids- spoke up again. “He’s not asking.”

Green-blue eyes pulled out something from the back of his pockets, a picture of a man.

Davey tried to hide the fact he knew the man (how the hell could he forget him? He took out six guards!) but short haired woman called him out.

“You know where he is.” She stated in a matter of fact tone.

Davey couldn’t help but shriek when he saw her pull a old school looking ax and aimed it at his direction.

“FUCK SHIT!” he screamed, pissing all over himself for nothing as the reason for the aim was to cut the ropes that were hold his hands. “FUCK YOU!”

“Not even on a bet.” She hissed, a smug smile gracing her face. She looked at Green-Blue eyes and nodded.

“Well Mr. Cole,” Green-blue started saying as he pulled a chair close to him, “Tell me everything that happened after we killed your bosses at Hardwick dock.”

Davey could feel his heart stop, “Mother fuckers.” He looked up at all three at them in real fear now. “That was you?”

“Yes.” Braids answers, smiling. “You think we would let you and your bosses get away with trafficking underage girls?”

She got up in his face, leaning in so he could see her and the gun holstered to her belt in better focus. “By the way, your latest ‘shipment’ were all rescued, so your ‘friends’ are sort of pissed off at you for snitching to them to the FBI.”

Davey wasn’t punched, but he might as well have as the news sunk in.

He was as a good as a dead man whether he made it past these three or not.

Green-blue eyes snickered, but it was low and gravely, he wiped his nose with the back of his hand as he cupped Davey’s face. “You have no way out of this, so I’ll ask only one more time. What happened after we killed all of your friends?”

He was really as good as dead.

“Okay, your friend there, I saw him fighting against one of my bosses head of security.” He started, his voice hallow as he realized the three of them all had something that could kill him.

“Then?” asked short haired woman.

Davey continued with his story…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Arabic is pretty rough. So understandably the translations are more than likely wrong or in the wrong dialect.  
> I related so hard to Yusuf/Joe in the movie that I so wanted to write something about him. So here it is! 
> 
> Translations:  
> Astaghfirullah- I seek forgiveness in Allah  
> Madha-What?  
> Min fadlak, batta’a. Laghtik Alearabiat lahjat mukhtalifatin.- Please, slow down. Your Arabic is different.  
> YaAllah, jalasa- Dear God, sit down.  
> Madha hadath lak- What happened?  
> Shurub-Drink  
> Esme/Ma hu esmak?- My name is/What's your name?  
> Anta bikhayrin- You're okay.


	2. What if I left and it made no sense

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Green-blue was the only thing Yusuf could remember that seemed to be a constant. He knows he's missing something but doesn't know what, how, or why.

Green-blue.

That’s all he could remember when he jerked awake, now parked in front of a row of small brick town homes.

“ _You okay?”_ Hulut asked, concern in her brown eyes. Yusuf laid back in the seat, not really aware that he had nearly jumped out and couldn’t really remember what had caused him to wake up so violently- except green-blue.

“ _I’m fine_.” He lied, groaning as a quick flash of pain went through his head. “ _Where are we?”_ he asked.

She gave him a soft smile, “ _My house._ ” She got out “ _Come on, I have someone who you are going to need to meet.”_

That should have made him go into alert, but he wasn’t worried. Something about her presence was familiar and comforting.

And yet not really right?

He wrapped the blanket around him tighter now as he and Hulut walked up some short steps to see another woman sitting at the door of the house. She looked young and was wearing scrubs, along with a blue and white hijab.

“Salam wal-” the young woman started before her eyes fell on Yusuf. He could feel her analyzing him.

Hulut smiled at her bewilderment. “Nadia, this is Yusuf.” She looked at him. “ _Yusuf, this is my cousin’s wife and my friend, Nadia. She’s a nurse, I thought she can look you over better than I could_.” 

Nadia’s brown eyes got wider, “ _You speak Arabic_?!”

Yusuf gave a timid smile, “ _Yes, but I don’t know why your Arabic sounds so different.”_

Nadia frowned at that, “ _Could be just a dialect issue_.” Hulut answered as she opened the door to her home.

The home was two stories and on the small side. Yusuf breathed in the smell of oranges and vanilla and took in the Moroccan blue walls and Middle eastern inspired décor. The living room was neat and clean, a white sitting set and a carved wood table. But the pictures mounted to the walls got his attention.

“La-ah, I’ve never heard of that dialect before.” Nadia mused to Hulut, clearly suspicious of Yusuf, “ _Where are you from_?” she asked. But Yusuf had made his way to the wall that had grabbed his attention.

It was filled with pictures of familiar landmarks. He knew these places…some looked odd in a good way, but others looked familiar and comforting.

Gleen-Blue popped in his mind again.

“Jami' al-Kutubiyah?” He pointed at the picture, feeling a sense of comfort. His eyes widen again at the other picture, “Sultan Ahmed Mosque!” he smiled. Other pictures of masjids and landmarks made his heart swell for some reason.

“ _I guess that’s a good sign_.” He heard Hulut say, he could feel her stepping closer to him.

Another picture got his attention immediately, it was like a gut punch. Familiar but so far in his head in how he knew it.

His fingers ghosted the picture in the frame. “Al-Qarawiyyin.” His voice was tight and his eyes burned.

Why the hell did this hurt?

“Yusuf?” Hulut asked more concerned now, “ _Are you okay?”_

He was quick to wipe away the tears, “ _Yes, I think…I think I’m fine_.”

Hulut sighed, “ _I wish I could believe that_.” She nudged her chin in the direction of Nadia. “ _Would you be okay if she looked you over?_ ”

He looked at Nadia, who eyes had not left his person since he stepped foot in the home. But her glance held less of a fear type worry now and more just a general mixture of worry and sadness.

He wrapped the blanket tighter if that were even possible at this point and nodded his head, allowing Hulut to gently guide him to her couch. “I’m going to get you some clothes, okay?” she informed him before heading upstairs, leaving him with a very guarded and cautious Nadia. "You owe me big for this, girl." Nadia yelled after Hulut. 

Yusuf could only sit quietly as he tried to make sure everything under his chest was covered by the blanket. 

“Okay.” Nadia sighed as she opened her bag to take out her medical gear. She did a general physical on him, checking his vitals, his vision, hearing, and his reflexes. “ _You seem to be in top shape_.” She commented as he felt himself try not to wiggle in discomfort at being so scrutinized. “You do smell horribly though.” Yusuf looked at her confused, not knowing what she said at all but believed it to be an insult by her tone.

“Nadia!” Hulut reprimanded her.

Clearly it was if it had elicit a reaction like that from Hulut. 

“What? It’s not like he understood that.” Nadia shrugged.

Hulut’s eyes were dark and murderous, enough for Nadia to look sheepish. “Would so love to know how you felt when you came here and people thought you didn’t speak a lick of English.” Hulut reminded her.

“I’m sorry.” Yusuf said.

Both women turned to him, caught off guard by the English. “ _I didn’t mean to start an argument._ ” He felt like he knew the language, but his brain was still trying to figure out why he should even know it.

“ _It’s not your fault, so no need to apologize.”_ While her tone was gentle, her eyes were still furious. “ _Why don’t you follow me, I’ll show you to my guest room. I have a set of clothes for you to wear. But you should take a shower_.”

He followed her upstairs without a word, only taking a moment to glance back at Nadia to give her what he hoped was a disarming smile.

The walls going up the steps were filled with pictures as well. Mostly of whom he assumed were family member due to the amount of women in the pictures who had on hijabs. A picture a man holding Hulut’s hands got his attention, the man looked familiar.

So far that was his theme for the day, familiar but far away.

“ _Here’s my guest room_.” Hulut opened the door to a small white painted guest room, the bed and furniture simple and clean like the rest of the house.

Apparently blue was theme throughout the home. The bed spread and curtains were a soft blue color. He picked up a neatly folded black long sleeve shirt.

“Shukren.” (Thank you.) His eyes stung again, he saw the towels neatly folded too.

“Afwan.” (You’re welcome.) Hulut could only stand aside for a moment, pretending she didn’t see Yusuf wipe away more tears. She could tell he was lost and overwhelmed.

“ _I have a stupid question, think you’ll be okay with the shower?_ ” She asked him pointing her thumb in the general direction of where the guest bathroom was “ _Just want to make sure you’ll be okay in there.”_

Yusuf nearly laughed, his memory was shot for the most part. But he could remember how to take a shower. “ _I’ll be fine_.” He assured her as he followed her to the bathroom to know where things were.

A shower was just what he needed, Hulut was kind enough to leave shampoo, conditioner, and body wash for him in the bathroom. Along with items for his hair, skin, and beard. Something was telling him that the man in the picture had good taste when it came to caring for his skin.

He washed till he was sure there was not a speck of dirt on his skin and in his hair. He nearly scrubbed his skin raw and figured there might have been redness from the heat and scrubbing but apparently his skin was taking the rough brushing and hot scalding water well. His whole body felt weak but awake, making him feel only marginally better. His brain felt like it was trying to reset and make sense of what had happened.

He could remember things but not really. Quick blurs and colors were the only things he could see in his head when he forced himself to remember what had led to him waking up in a graveyard. He wanted to remember more but it was causing him to feel nauseous. He turned off the water after a while, as he tried to center himself before getting out of the shower.

He looked at himself in the fogged up mirror.

‘ _Great metaphor_.’ He groaned as another quick flash of pain hit his head.

Getting dressed was a process, mainly because all he wanted to do was sleep but Hulut had asked him to come back down stairs after he was dressed. He sat on the foot of bed, waiting again to get his bearing together. He picked up the rings and necklace. They were still caked in dirt, he planned on cleaning them later, leaving them on the dresser.

After a while he gathered the strength to go back downstairs to now find Hulut and Nadia sitting at the bench that was the dining room table. Three cups of tea at the table.

“ _Hi, you feel better?_ ” Hulut asked him as he slowly sat down, now feeling his body slowly giving into his exhaustion.

“A little.” He answered honestly in English. “Just tired.”

He was a bit thankful that neither women made any comments on his English, he was self-conscious on how he sounded but seeing picture of Al-Qarawiyyin gave him courage to try.

“ _Nadia and I were just talking, she said you looked like you were in good shape but she and I want to make sure your brain is okay. If you can’t remember anything about what happened to you or who you were with, you definitely have amnesia._ ” She explained to him slowly. “ _We just want to check nothing is going wrong in there._ ” She smiled as a way to lessen the severity of the conversation.

“ _I have a friend who works at a clinic. He said he would take a look to see if you’re okay_.” Nadia informed him, he was thankful for her looking less scared of him now. She looked actually concerned.

“ _You up for a trip to a clinic? It’s a few minutes from here._ ”

He waited a beat before nodding yes.

As they were leaving, he heard Nadia laugh, “I can’t wait to see what Salim thinks of this!”

“Shut up.”

Meanwhile….

The ride from Miami to Arlington was fucking awkward.

Riding with death would have been more comfortable.

At least death was upfront about being death.

Riding with three psycho mercenary assassins who had certified his death was just nerve wrecking.

Davey had ended up telling the three mercenaries about what happened to their friend. Green-blue eyes dude nearly slit his throat when he told them what had happened.

Their friend had ran after one of the body guards who had grabbed a two girls and were dragging them into a hall that would lead them outside the building.

Unannounced to the man, the body guard had back up.

Six men, not including Davey who had managed to get the girls into a second van for delivery, against one.

From what Davey heard the guy was a killing machine and had managed to knock down each man till back-up came and apparently had shot up the guy to pieces.

The women had to hold green-blue eyes back at that part.

Davey felt the tip of the sword touch his neck.

“HIS NAME IS YUSUF!” Green-Blue eyes screeched, spit flew as he continued to yell in another language that was lost on Davey, but the heat and anger was present as Davey felt the two women give him the death glare.

“You can’t kill him.” Braids warned, but Green-blue eyes looked like he was ready to do jus that.

“Yet.” Short haired lady reminded them.

Davey could feel himself ready to shit himself as Blue-Green eyes held the sword to his throat again. “You know what they did next, don’t you.” He pressed the sword tighter, Davey grinded his teeth and couldn’t help but release a whine, begging not to be killed.

“Fuck you.” Braids rolled her eyes, “What happened next?” her voice steely. Her arms were crossed, but Davey didn’t doubt her ability to shoot him as soon as Green-blue stabbed him.

“He was still breathing last time I heard, they didn’t know how but bosses thought to either bury him or sell him. A brown dude like that who can fight would be worth it.”

That earned a strong punch to his head by short haired lady.

“FUCK!” Davey groaned, spitting blood and tooth. He vomited as the pain worsened.

None of them cared, “Where is he now?” Green-blue eyes asked.

“They buried him, apparently your boy took out another set of guards. Too much fucking trouble for what he’s worth.” Davey answered, slurring his words now. He was having a hard time keeping his eyes open

“Nope. No, not now.” He heard braids say, a slight flint of concern now. He could hear her walk out.

“Cole?” He felt hands on his shoulder and then cupping his face. “Mr. Cole, look at me.” Green-Blue eyes ordered him.

A minute later he was shaken awake by a bucket of cold water being splashed onto his face.

“Fucking hell.” He sputtered as the pain in his head burned.

Green-blue eyes looked resolute now, his sword at his side. He saw the man give short haired lady a look, a silent plea.

“Fine, gut punches for the time being.” She promised them, sounding over it all.

He felt the hands in his hair before he realized Green-blue eyes was grabbing him by the hair. “You’re going to show us where they buried him.”

Davey gulped; his death was ordained by them already. He had nothing to lose at this point.

“They’ve might have buried him somewhere in DC, that’s were they were hoping to trade him.” Davey groaned at the pain. Green-blue eyes had a death grip on his hair.

Braids looked annoyed at that, “Guess Copely is going to have to plan a road trip for us.”

_Meanwhile_ ….

The idea of an MRI scan seemed pretty easy to understand.

Till Yusuf actually saw the freaking machine that he was suppose to lay in and stay still in.

No one warned him how terrifying it looked or felt like to be in there.

He felt…

Suffocated.

“ _I-I can’t_ ” Yusuf wheezed as panic overtook him. He felt like he was back in the ground again.

He knew it wasn’t the same, but it felt like it.

He didn’t want to feel like that again.

Disregarded and so close to death, that he could taste it.

Hulut tried to find ways to assure him he would be okay, but he was adamant about not wanting to go in till she asked him if he could remember anything that made him happy or calm.

Green-blue was the only thing that popped into his head when he tried to think of being happy.

“ _Green-blue? Like the actual color?_ ” Hulut asked for clarification as she looked around the room for something that was actually green-blue. She asked Nadia’s friend, the man giving them access to the MRI machine, to get every scrub and gown in the clinic.

It was a long shot, but Hulut explained to him and Nadia that if maybe they found a color that matched the shade Yusuf was asking for, it might bring some comfort.

Yusuf was willing, anything to get this testing over with.

He was ready to call the plan pointless when they were on their 11th item of clothing when he found a color that was close to the vision of green-blue that was in his head.

“ _That one_.” He said gently as he picked up the scrub shirt. It was soft. He rubbed the material and felt homesick for some reason.

Hulut allowed him to hold the shirt for a moment, sensing his fear and anxiety reducing with every breath. After a few minutes he allowed himself to be directed to the MRI machine, he held onto the scrub tightly as he was asked to lay down and stay perfectly still.

Soft whirring noises made him flinch as he forced himself to close his eyes and focus on green-blue, the bile though in the back of his throat was slowly rising.

It didn’t help the fact that inside the MRI machine smelled.

While Yusuf was trying to not let his mind melt. Hulut, Nadia, and the technician watched an active imagining of his brain.

“The hell?” the technician questioned; confusion written all over his face.

“What is it?” Hulut asked, she looked at the screen bewildered. She had experience with reading brain scans, but this was different.

“What is it doing?” Hulut asked again as they each noticed Yusuf’s brain look like it was changing in real time.

“No fucking clue. But this is weird.” The tech paused the images in a set of three. He pointed to lit up portions of Yusuf’s brain. “There’s clearly trauma, I don’t know what the doc would say, but this type of trauma is common amongst patients with transient global amnesia.” He paused for a moment as he looked at the active imagining. “It’s like his brain is trying to work out the physical trauma and heal as quickly as possible. I’ve never seen this before.” The tech was clearly in awe at the pictures would evolve, lighting up and darkening as Yusuf’s brain seemed to go off non-stop.

Nadia nudged her chin at the monitor, “Hmm, he’s still nervous.”

“No shit, this was not the best place to be in when you can’t remember anything.” Hulut reasoned. She bit her lower lip as her eyes went back to the scan.

“Dr. Malik said this wasn’t to be on the record since this is a freebie, anyway I can get the scans and we pretend this never happened?” she asked, careful to make sure her tone was light. Hulut didn’t like the way the tech looked at the scans.

“What?” the tech snapped, “Are you kidding? These images clearly show that his brain is going into over drive to heal itself, I don’t think I’ve ever seen this before.”

“Cool. But it wasn't a question, it was a demand.” Hulut clarified, Nadia could sense her going into protective mode. “Print the scans for me and delete all the images, I want no record we were here, that’s a order by me and the doctor.” Hulut told him again.

At the mention of his boss, the tech did follow the order. He begrudgingly gave Hulut images of the scan and deleted everything thoroughly.

Yusuf couldn’t get out the clinic quick enough, he was awake now. Clutching the scrub like it was a security blanket. He felt himself finally breath once they were outside the clinic. He had dried heaved a few times, causing a new wave of tears as his stomach burned.

“I’m so sorry, Yusuf.” Hulut apologized as she rubbed his back. Nadia had ran back into the clinic to get water from the vending machine. Offering him the bottle once she came back. He couldn’t vomit but he wanted to.

YaAllah, he wanted to.

“ _Think you can stomach something to eat_?” Hulut asked him, her hands never leaving his back. It felt nice, if he were being honest.

If it wasn’t for the fact that he was able to keel over, he would have appreciated her mothering.

He wasn’t sure how he managed to keep his stomach settled on the ride back. He was fidgety throughout and nearly felt himself come out of his skin once he was in back in the house, thankful that it was more open and less sterile than that damn clinic.

Once he stepped into the house he was greeted by a man. ‘ _The man from the pictures’_ , Yusuf recalled, the man looked familiar otherwise. His hair and skin tone was similar to Yusuf, and they were roughly the same height. But the man looked much younger and jovial compared to Yusuf. He wondered how old he was compared to Hulut, Nadia, and the man present in front of him.

“Salam walekum.” The guy greeted him warmly, before studying the shirt and sweat pants Yusuf had on. “Is that my shirt?”

Yusuf looked back at Hulut, touching the offending shirt. She rolled her eyes, “Yes, didn’t think he would appreciate my clothes.” She answered in a matter of fact tone, though she looked sly saying it.

“Salim, this is Yusuf.” She pointed at Yusuf, “Yusuf, _this is my fiancé_ , Salim.” She introduced them, watching carefully as Yusuf shook the man’s hand.

“ _It’s nice to meet you_.” Yusuf told him sincerely, Salim nodded- a gentle smile on his face that caused Yusuf to smile back.

“I think you said it was nice to meet me, right?” Salim asked Hulut for confirmation, looking embarrassed to even ask.

Yusuf laughed, _actually_ laughed. “It’s okay.” The man was nice, he reminded Yusuf of someone. As did Hulut, but he couldn’t figure out how still. He silently cursed his brain for causing everything to be a mess.

Hulut smiled along with them, “ _Yeah, Salim is just learning Arabic, although if you want to talk and prattle away with him in French or Korean, he’s your man_.” She wrapped her arms around her fiancé, smiling proudly at him as he pulled her close to kiss her forehead.

“I did bring us food, I don’t know if you’re up to eat?” Salim asked Yusuf in English, he pointed over to the dining room table to see cartons of food.

Yusuf stomach growled; the food smelled great! He was practically gliding over to the table now. 

“You went to Ankara?” Hulut asked as Yusuf started to open the cartons to find loads of Turkish dishes.

“Figured he would be hungry.” Salim offered, he glanced over to Yusuf who had said a quick Bismillah before going into a plate filled with musakka, sigara boregi, kofte, lahmacun, spinach, and rice. “Figured I was right.” He laughed as he watched Yusuf inhale the food.

Salim’s laugh reminded him of something. Yusuf froze as a sense of déjà vu washed over him.

But as quickly as the feeling came, it went.

Both Salim and Hulut noticed his slight change in demeanor but before they could ask him what was wrong the doorbell rang.

Hulut frowned, turning to the door, “Did you order more food?” she asked Salim.

Nadia grinned slyly as she made a show of getting up, “Probably not, I told Ridwan to come over.”

Hulut immediately blanched at that, “Why? You know this isn’t a family dinner, right?” she asked the as Nadia opened the door to let in her husband.

The man was looked nice, he wasn’t as tall as Yusuf but he looked young and was buff. A mess of curly hair floated around his head as he pulled Nadia in for a kiss. “Salam walekum.” Ridwan greeted, his eyes falling onto Yusuf immediately. “Hey, what’s up?”

Hulut rubbed her face, “Dear God, this isn’t going to stay quiet, is it?” she mumbled into Salim’s shoulder.

“Yusuf?” she pointed to Ridwan, “ _This is my cousin, Ridwan._ Ridwan, this is Yusuf _._ ” A look of worry passed over her features, “He’s Salim’s cousin.”

“Really?” Ridwan asked, clearly surprised as he sat down next to Nadia who now looked confused and pissed.

Yusuf was just as confused as Salim claimed him as family fairly easily, explaining that Yusuf was planning on staying in Virginia for a few weeks but couldn’t stay with him due to his roommate already having guests.

“ _That’s cool that you’re staying with Hulut, she always has these family dinners planned for us during Fridays and the weekends_.” Ridwan’s Arabic was rough, but Yusuf appreciated the effort.

It felt odd, being a part of a family dinner like this.

But not _different_. 

As the food began to be passed over and served, Ridwan asked Yusuf what he did for a leaving. Yusuf could sense Hulut prickle and try to come up with a cover story, but he beat her to it.

“ _I’m an artist_. _I paint portraits for a living_ ”

‘ _Where the hell did that come from_?’ he asked himself, not knowing where he pulled that from, but it was the first thing that came to his mind.

“Cool.” Ridwan shrugged as he began to eat.

He shared a look with Hulut and Salim, thanking Allah that seemed to be the end of that.

“ _Do you have any paintings in exhibits or anything_?”

Or maybe not!

A few days later….

Davey couldn’t imagine a way to escape this, his hands were bounded together by tape and his legs tied together by chains.

The drive up was fucking hell as he was forced to sit in a back of what he assumed was an SUV, they had blind folded him and gagged him when they weren’t looking for answers as to where his bosses had plots where they buried the dead. Davey informed them that his bosses were stupid to bury folks in random areas because that would be messy and cause more attention when and if they were found. It was better to be straight to the point, unmarked graves at an actual graveyard, no one would be suspicious at those, not even the graveyard workers.

There were only four graveyards that Davey was aware his bosses used to bury their victims. The three mercenaries had done a good job transporting him around DC, Maryland, and Virginia without raising any suspicion. Always at night and always parked far from cameras or populated areas.

There were at the last potential burial spot.

Davey could feel death coming for him as he was pulled around the graveyard. The last three places proved to be pointless as their contact, Copely (?) found no evidence of a body being buried recently or any unmarked graves being found. Two and a half days with these psychos and he still had no idea what their names where. He was sure Copely was a much as a stage name as Charlie from Charlie’s Angels was.

After an hour of walking around they found portion of a ground by the edge of where the graveyard ended to be disturbed. “This has to be it.” Davey reasoned, the spot was far away from the gate of the graveyard and nowhere near where the cemetery office could witness anything.

Green-Blue looked around, running his hand through his hair as he surveyed the area. His eyes stopping at a monument far off from where they were. “Do you think that this is were your bosses had him buried?” Green-Blue eyes asked him.

“Yes.” Davey answered. The man looked like he was silently thinking something over and over again while short haired lady and braids lady watched him. “You believe me, right? This has to be the place, if you’re guy was buried- dead or alive- he was buried here. He had to be.” Davey tried to reason desperately.

“I believe you, Mr. Cole.” Green-blue eyes answered him calmly. “I think you are right.”

Davey felt relieved to hear that, “Does this mean you guys can let me go? Maybe give me a chance to live? I promise I’ll be good! I promise that I won’t go back to those guys! I’ll even help you figure out where to find other bosses, controllers, and Johns!”

Short haired lady looked unsure about that, but she looked over at Green-Blue eyes and shrugged, holding her hands up in mock defeat.

Green-Blue eyes looked like he was biting the inside of his cheek before sighing, “I don’t believe that is necessary, Mr. Cole.” He sighed, “I believe our mission to find your bosses and stop your despicable team’s “business” has ended, much like our working relationship here.”

“What does that-“  
Davey never got to finish his question as Nicky’s sword sliced across his neck, leaving Davey gurgling blood before collapsing onto the ground.

“You okay, Nicky?” Nile asked once Davey was dead.

“Better, but not whole.” He wiped his sword on Davey’s shirt before putting it back into his scabbard. “I don’t doubt that he wasn’t buried here.” He pointed to the statue that had gotten his attention. A crescent moon and star symbolizing the religion of Islam.

“That was kind of them.” Nile pointed out, albeit not too impressed.

“I’m sure it was out of the kindness of their heart.” Andy quipped as she kicked Davey a bit to make sure he was dead-dead, before pulling out a shovel from her bag. Nile and Nicky followed suit, working together to bury Davey where Yusuf had been buried.

Once Davey was good and buried, Andy pulled out her burner. “Hey Copley, yeah we think we found the site. Pull up every camera around this damn place.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took in the suggestions, let me know how this one goes! I appreciate the honest feed back, so thank you!  
> Thanks everyone for the kudos!


	3. And how my thoughts they let me down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For some reason he found drawing the Green-blue eyed man easy. It was almost like drawing a perfect model- short hair, long hair, beard, clean shaven, or a mustache- the Green-Blue eyed man appeared to be versatile in his beauty.  
> “Is he your boyfriend?”

And how my thoughts they let me down

Yusuf open his eyes, fully coming to the conclusion that intermitting sleeping was not helpful in the slightest after he had noticed it was nearly noon. He had been waking every few hours, visions of a man with green-blue eyes haunting him.

But not in a bad way.

He had dreamt the green-blue eyes saying something to him, he couldn’t understand the words- which were muted and his face was blurry. But the man brought some odd sense of comfort to him.

He tried to ground himself by settling his feet on the cold wood floors as the visions started to disperse from his mind’s eyes. He had gotten up to pray fajr, but performed wudu for dhuhr and brushed his teeth.

When he got back into his room, a little girl was sitting on his bed.

“Salam walekum uncle Yusuf.” She said shyly as she opened the trunk that was at the end of the bed and started to pull out toys.

Yusuf smiled, “Walekum salam Sufi.” He was warned about the little girl after dinner last night.

 _Last night_ …

He had enjoyed himself with Hulut’s family, they were welcoming and warm, even Nadia seemed to have warmed up to him a bit after he and Ridwan started talking about soccer and football. Later in the evening, Hulut’s other cousin (the niece of Nadia), Afrah, came to the home.

She was shy and quiet, but smart as whip. Speaking with Yusuf in Arabic and French (that had come to him as surprise after Afrah and Salim started to speak to each other). They ended up talking about farming and painting for an hour with the rest of the family, missing how relieved Hulut and Salim looked.

“Oh my God, Sufi will love him.” Afrah commented as she accepted a cup tea from Hulut, causing the older woman to wince at the mention of her God daughter.

“Crap, I completely forgot about her.” Hulut groaned, more to herself than to the others, earning a chuckle from Salim.

“How the hell do you forget about Sufi?” he asked, incredulously. “She’s like our practice kid.”

Hulut rolled her eyes, settling next to Salim and Yusuf with her own drink on the couch. “She’s my mother’s kid cousin and she’s usually at my house every Monday and Tuesday since her day care closes early.” She explained to Yusuf. “She’s hyper, she will be in your room the first chance she gets to get her toys, and she will expect you to play with her, no questions.”

Yusuf laughed, “She sounds adorable.”

Nadia guffawed, “Adorable? Famous last words.”

Yusuf rolled his eyes at that, while he liked Nadia- he and her had their friendly debates over dinner about things that caused the rest to laugh and roll their eyes as apparently it seemed that Yusuf knew of every place Nadia has lived and was an “expert” on.

“Yo, Salim, next time bring your cousin to our place. I would love to see how this one reacts to him challenging her on North and East African history.” Ridwan grinned as Nadia sat fuming over being corrected over Sudanese political history.

“Where the hell are you even from anyway?” Nadia asked, rather harshly as Salim and Hulut grimaced and Afrah reminded her aunt of her manners.

“Tunisia.” Yusuf answered teasingly.

“Hey, look. A country you haven’t visited yet.” Hulut grinned.

_Now…_

Yusuf was unaware of what made him say Tunisia. It just felt right. He couldn’t recall anything without feeling like his head was being runover. He shook his head as a headache came and went quickly. Green-blue eye man was his only hint at what his previous life was.

While he was in he had completely forgotten how his day started- in a grave. Naked and covered in cloth. Now he was waking up in a home, clean and dressed. With people who apparently trusted and liked him enough to leave their five-year-old family member around him.

“Can you play with me?” Sufi asked as she started to pull out costumes and books. She was sweet looking with dark braids that reached her shoulders and deep brown eyes that were reminiscent of Hulut and her cousins.

Yusuf smiled, a feeling of déjà vu washed over him oddly enough.

He pinched the bridge of his nose as the feeling went away. He really had to focus if he wanted to avoid feeling overwhelmed “I would be honored. Do you mind if I eat first?”

Sufi nodded her head, but as soon as Yusuf had donned on a sweatshirt over his head (properly of Salim), he looked down to see Sufi’s arms reached out for him “ _Up_.”

Despite what Nadia would have him believe, Sufi was adorable.

He walked down stairs to find Hulut at the dining room table. Two laptops, documents, and a white board of all things in front of her spread out. She was dressed pretty formally for someone working from home, in a white button down dress and black leggings- her curly hair pulled into a bun.

“Hey there,” she greeted him warmly. “Hmm, twelve minutes to noon. Guess I can still say Sabah alkhyr then?” (Good morning)

“Sabah al nur.” He answered back, settling Sufi on his hip as the little girl decided to play with his beard.

“it’s so curly!” Sufi nearly screeched as she nearly yanked on a section.

“Sufi, la-ah!” (No!) Hulut reprimanded the little girl, but Yusuf shrugged. Not minding at all.

“It doesn’t hurt.” He explained as Sufi moved to playing with hair.

“It’s curly like mine!”

Hulut looked on at the two as Yusuf continued to coo and entertain Sufi.

He was oddly at peace in the home, it should have felt weird to be in a stranger’s home and bonding with strangers while his own past was an enigma.

But he was, and Allah help him. He didn’t mind it.

“How did you sleep?” Hulut asked as he sat down on the couch, shifting Sufi from his hip to his lap.

“Not well, to be honest. But at least I woke up in a bed.” Yusuf pushed back the queasiness that started at the mere thought about the grave.

“Alhamdulilah for that.” Hulut reminded him. (Thank you Allah) 

“Why wouldn’t he be in a bed? That’s where people sleep.” Sufi asked, curious as to why both her play uncle and God mother looked so serious.  
Hulut rolled her eyes, walking over to pick up her God-daughter and setting her down- ignoring the pout.

“Give me and your uncle ten minutes, okay?”

“Fine. But I want him to play with me.” Sufi warned before running upstairs.

“Uncle Yusuf.” Yusuf repeated to himself, “Has a nice ring to it.”

“Couldn’t really tell her and her mother the truth now, besides she loves Salim. So you being his “cousin” makes things easy to explain.” Hulut invited him into the kitchen for breakfast. “Ever had fuul before?” 

He nodded, while he had nearly finished off the Turkish food Salim had brought last night, he was still hungry. He scooped nearly half the bowl of mashed fava beans on a plate, along with tahini, eggs, and warm bread.

“You know you could have just eaten from the bowl, right?” Hulut laughed as she got herself and Yusuf a cup of coffee.

“Wanted to save you some.” He replied between mouthful of fuul, eggs, and bread.

The mood in the kitchen shifted as Yusuf noted that Hulut was studying him again.

He gulped down his mouthful of food. “ _I can only remember one thing_.” He answered her unasked question.

“ _That’s something._ ” She noted, “ _what are you remembering_?”

“ _A man_.” Yusuf started, popping another piece of bread, eggs, and fuul into his mouth. “ _He has these green-blue eyes. He was trying to talk to me but i couldn’t hear him and whenever I tried to think when and where I saw him I get these stabbing pains in my head._ ”

Hulut looked proud of him that he could at least remember something, he couldn’t explain to himself that making her proud was something he _liked_. “Hmm. _Don’t try to push yourself too hard, start with the man himself and on one memory_.” She advised him. “ _Your brain is still healing, no need to overwhelm yourself._ ”

“ _But I don’t know how long this is gonna take_.” He reminded her, he winced at the fact he still couldn’t recall his _age._ He had no idea how many years of his life was lost to him.

“ _As long as it needs to_.” She looked him, “ _I’m not kicking you out, this is your home as long as you need it to be._ ”

Yusuf nearly choked on his coffee. “ _I couldn’t ask you to do that_.” He said seriously, nearly affronted on her behalf. There was no way in hell that they could carry the charade of him being Salim’s cousin.

“ _Which is why I’m telling you; I’m not kicking you out so feel free to stay here as long as you need to_.” She told him sincerely.

Something in his heart kicked again, his mind fuzzy as he looked at Hulut- the kindness in her eyes made him feel homesick.

This felt too familiar and strange at the same time. “Hulut, you -how do you-?”

“UNCLE YUSUF, IT’S TIME TO PLAY!” Sufi yelled from atop of the steps.

Both of them nearly jumped at that, “There’s no way in hell she gave you ten minutes.” Hulut nearly growled at her God daughter’s antics.

Yusuf looked at the time that was on the stovetop, “Eight minutes. Not bad for a hyper five year old, right?”

They left the kitchen to go their respectful places, an non-verbal agreement to return to the conversation once they were given the chance to talk again.

He found his room to be over taken by Sufi officially. Her costumes were on the bed, and her toys were sitting on the trunk and her books were scattered on the floor. Along with every type of art supply known to humankind.

“Please tell me there’s no glitter.” Yusuf asked, slightly worried. While his memory was gone, he knew glitter was pain to wash off. He found a clear patch of the floor to sit down on as Sufi passed him a large poster sheet and her art supply.

“No, aunty Hulut doesn’t want me to play with glitter again.” She sighed as if the losing of glitter was heartbreaking.

They started to draw, at first it was pretty simple- Sufi drew him a picture of her house and then Darth Vader and Elsa. Yusuf though started to draw the eyes of the Green-blue eyed man that he had seen in his dreams.

It started with the shapes of his eyes, from the eyes wide in fear, to them being dark and stormy to them being drawn as if they were crying.

Yusuf could recall bits of the dream as he began to focus on just Green-Blue eye man. The shape of his sharp nose, his long wavy light brown hair, and his pale face with a mole on his chin.

Nearly an hour and a half later Yusuf had finished up three poster sheets filled with images and drawing of Green-blue eye man.

Sufi could only stand over his shoulder as he drew another image of Green-Blue eye man, this time it took up the whole poster sheet paper. He liked drawing the man, it felt right.

For some reason he found drawing the Green-blue eyed man easy. It was almost like drawing a perfect model- short hair, long hair, beard, clean shaven, or a mustache- the Green-Blue eyed man appeared to be versatile in his beauty.

“Is he your boyfriend?” Sufi asked.

…

Yusuf blinked.

Realizing quickly after Sufi had asked that question that he just noted he found the man to be beautiful.

‘Fuck.’ He thought, he had even drawn Green-blue eye without a shirt!

“Uh, I don’t know.” He answered honestly, quickly shoving the artwork under his bed. “I don’t know who he is.”

“You drawed him a lot.” Sufi noted looking at the poster sheets that were next to Yusuf. “He’s pretty!”

Yusuf felt the tension from his body slide away at that, for some reason he was expecting Sufi to say something…homophobic? Mean? He wasn’t sure, but now he was worried.

He wasn’t sure how Hulut and her family would take this. 

“Yeah, I guess.” He admitted bashfully as he took a new sheet of poster paper and tried to think of something else to draw that had nothing to do with the Green-blue eyed man.

Luckily the call for Dhuhr got him some time away about thinking of how he was tied to the Green-blue eyed man. “Think aunty Hulut would want us to pray?” he asked Sufi as the little girl again held her arms up to him. He sat her down on his hip again as he went to find Hulut.

He ended up finding her looking at pictures of men that were tapped to the white board. The men were of different races and different ages, but all had the same tattoo on their arm apparently, if the pictures of forearms next to the pictures of faces meant anything.

“What is all this?” Yusuf asked as he set Sufi down on the couch. His eyes never left the pictures of the tattoos, they looked familiar…

“Work thing.” Hulut answered. “You can pray without me, I need to write up the latest status report on this case.”

Yusuf touched one of the photos, frowning as he focused on the man in one of them. The man was tan, beefy faced, with hair streaked with gray “These are the traffickers from Florida right? They traffic the girls out of Miami?”

Hulut stopped moving, her face becoming as white as a sheet of paper. “How the hell did you know that?”

“I know this man.” Yusuf told her, pointing to the beefy looking man. “He’s dead though.”

Hulut could only stare at him, her eyes cold and confused looking. “He’s dead?”

Yusuf realized how this made him look, but he knew he wasn’t he bad guy here.

He _knew_ that much. “Yes. I don’t know when, but he’s definitely dead. As is this man.” He pointed to another older looking guy- this one with full beard and short cropped hair.

Hulut pressed her lips together, looking at the pictures and then silently picking up her phone.

Yusuf could feel his heart beat through his chest as he imagined Hulut calling the cops on him. But instead it sounded like she had called a colleague.

“Hey Dali, we’re gonna need to pick up the handler guy suspect. I don’t think Santis and Covey are alive anymore, this might be a good time for the bust to occur…I got new intel.”

Yusuf looked at the map at of coast of Florida, he wasn’t sure, but it felt familiar- he had flashes of a Green-blue eyed man looking at him for something. “Look of the coast of Venetian islands.” He told her.

Hulut held the phone between her shoulder and cheek as she began to look something up on her computer. “Dali, the shipment that was supposedly coming in the for Santis’ fabric company, where was the port?” Hulut nodded, she muted the phone.

“Does either Hardwick dock or Manchester dock sound familiar to you?” she asked him, her voice hard.

Yusuf nodded, “Hardwick.” He could remember blood at the mention of the place, lots of blood. He could see the Green-blue eyed man angry and seething, a gun in hand.

Hulut unmuted her phone, “Check Hardwick for any new shipments meant for Santis and or Covey. Hell, tell Tucker to finally pick up that Davey creep.”

As soon as she hung up on the call, Hulut turned over to him, arms crossed with a slight look of worry etched in her features.

“I know.” Yusuf started, “We’re going to talk about this.”

Hulut smirked, “Like now.” She ordered Sufi to go back up stairs and after a few minutes of dealing with Sufi’s whining of wanting to play with her uncle, Hulut cajoled the young girl to go back with a tray of cookies and milk.

Once Hulut was assured that Sufi was out of hearing range, she looked back at Yusuf. “Explain as much as you can as to why you know who these human traffickers are.”

Yusuf bit the inside of his cheek, unsure how this would affect his burgeoning relationship with Hulut. He was already imagining her calling the police on him or killing him herself. “I-I think I killed them…not all of them!” he quickly corrected himself as he noticed Hulut’s alarmed look. “I think I killed this man and this man.” He pointed to the two lower pictures. “I think the man I was dreaming of killed these three.” He pointed at the set of pictures on the side.

“So what the hell are you and Green-Blue eyed man? Traffickers? Hitmen? What?” Hulut questioned him, her tone held little accusation and more indifference.

He knew she was trying to protect herself and her family from him.

“I-I don’t know.” He answered honestly, Yusuf sat down across from her. “I-I know I’m not a trafficker, I wouldn’t do what they did. I don’t hurt the innocent.” He promised her.

She could only look at him, studying him again.

“Do I have to say wallahi?” he joked, trying his best to lighten the mood.  
“No.” she admitted, she looked at him questioningly. “I found you on the Muslim side of the graveyard, but you were walking out from outside the actual graveyard property.” She mused to herself.

“ _What are you thinking_?”

“ _I don’t think you’re bad guy, but you and that other man have definitely dealt with bad people_.” She called another person her work phone.

“Hi Ashley, could you do me a favor? I have a new contact related to the case in Miami but I need you to wipe his records for now.”

Yusuf sat up alarmed, she was going to what now?

“Look up any security cameras or speed traps around the 402, anything from Arlington to District National Cemetery in Clinton. I need them to be wiped gone, hear me?” Hulut grinned, “Thanks, I’ll explain later.”

Yusuf sat slack jawed; she had the power to do that? “At the risk the sound like a hypocrite, what exactly is it that you do?” Yusuf asked, taking in the amount of paperwork she had that was related to human trafficking across the country.

“I’m part of the liaison unit between the FBI and National Trafficking In-Persons office. I work on breaking down trafficking rings- whether they are online, in person, or even on the other side of the freaking globe.” Hulut explained so matter of fact, as if it was a typical office job.

Now it was Yusuf’s turn to study her. He let out a low whistle “That’s pretty impressive.”

Hulut snorted, “Said the man who might have taken out Miami’s last strong hold mob family.”

_Elsewhere…_

“There’s no fucking way that possible.” Andy retorted, annoyed at Copley’s audacity to sound annoyed at them.

“It is, apparently. I’ve scoured the entire roads and highways that lead to and from the National Cemetery and there’s no sighting of Joe.” Copley explained for the third time, “I even checked the other two supposed dump sites that Davey mentioned, and no sighting of Joe or anyone who could pass or be mistaken for Joe.”

“Then you’re not looking hard enough.” Andy snapped, nearly cracking the burner phone. 

That was Nile’s cue to leave and go find Nicky, who had immediately left once Copley had informed them of his findings.

Nile found him on the ground, his back pressed up against the couch. There were at their safe house that Copley had set up for them, it was a little stand alone house off in some small time in Maryland. The furniture had seen better days, so she couldn’t blame Nicky for opting to sit on the floor.

“Nicky?”

He looked up at her, his Green-Blue eyes blood shot and teary as she came to sit down next to him. He allowed himself to be hugged by her as he began to cry again.

“I can’t lose him, I can’t lose him, not him.” Nicky sobbed, Nile could only hold onto him and whisper promised of returning Joe to him.

Seeing Nicky broken like this made her heart hurt. She loved Nicky and Joe, they were her older brothers and their love story and relationship made her ridiculously happy because it was the something that proved that there was good In the world, especially when she and the rest of the group had to deal with the worst of humanity.

But now…

She was feeling the weight of their relationship, and she was seeing how the ugliness of humanity was creeping and invading her own family.

She knew they were going to find Joe.

They had to.

She could feel eyes on her and saw that Andy was looking at them.

Before she could open her mouth to ask, Andy shook her head solemnly- her own eyes puffy and red, Andy’s entire body seemed shaky- as if she was barely able to contain the heartbreak. 

The thought that their own leader was in tears made Nile’s stomach churn. There was no way in hell that Joe was lost to them forever now.

That just couldn’t be the case. 

She wiped away her own tear before Nicky could notice.


End file.
